But the warmth of his hand on her arm sent little shivers running down her spine and she could not wholly blame the shakiness of her legs on just her traumatic morning.
*
John Barker made his way to the big, sunny kitchen after he had sent a young lad off to Melton Castle with the message from his Master.
The kitchen was strangely empty at this time of day.
Mrs. Bates always took an hour off to put her feet up and have a rest before tackling the dinner menu and the maids used her absence to tend to their own mending and laundry and breathe a little fresh air out in the vegetable gardens.
Edie had been repairing the lace on one of Rosanna’s shifts. Now she was sitting at the big, white scrubbed pine table, drinking tea.
She jumped up when John came in, smiling.
“There you are! I thought you might have had to go back to the Castle.”
John smiled gravely.
“Not without saying goodbye, lass.”
Edie reached down a large blue and white mug from the dresser and poured another cup of tea from the big brown pot on the table.
“Here, John, drink this. It’s still hot. It’ll do you good.
My, what a morning. How are things upstairs?”
John sank down into a high-backed chair, stretched out his sturdy, booted legs and drank his tea with a sigh of satisfaction.
“Ah, that’s better. I was that dry. Well, we’re staying here tonight, that’s for sure. I’ll be bedding down in the stable block, I reckon, along with the Donnington lads.”
Edie sat down beside him, nursing her own cup of tea between her small, capable hands.
“Then you’ll be off back to the Castle tomorrow, you think?”
John shrugged.
“My Master cannot stay here with Lady Rosanna without some type of chaperone in attendance, now can he? Tongues will wag all over the county over today’s escapade as it is.”
“I liked it at the Castle. I’ll miss little Milly,” Edie said sadly.
“Oh, yes, and what about me?”
Edie tossed back her red curls and grinned at him.
“Oh, I might give you the odd thought now and then, John Barker. Like I will with everyone I met over at the Castle!”
John reached out and took her hand in his. They stared down at their fingers, entwined together and sat in contented silence for a while.
“We’ll have to make some plans, lass,” John said at last. “But I’m not sure when we can – ”
Edie placed a finger on his lips.
“It’ll all work out, John. Don’t you worry. I reckon we’ll be living at the same place before the year’s out!”
And as he held her hand against his rough cheek, she wished her Mistress could be as happy as she was at this very minute.
*
After dinner in the fine drawing room of Donnington Hall, Rosanna sat at the piano and touched her fingers gently to the keys.
Lord Melton stood, one arm resting along the high white marble mantelpiece, watching and listening.
“You play very well, Lady Rosanna,” he said. “I recall telling you that when you were just lowly Nurse Robinson and performed that little French lullaby for me back at the Castle.”
Rosanna looked up from the keyboard and smiled.
“I am badly in need of practice, sir, which I believe I told you at the time. I hope to give at least half an hour to my piano studies every day now I am home once more.”
Lord Melton kicked moodily at the smouldering coals in the fireplace.
Even though the summer day had been warm, there was a chill in the evening air and the staff had lit the fire.
“So you have definitely decided to make Donnington Hall your permanent home?”
“Yes, indeed. I love it so much. Nothing could persuade me to leave it now. I have no desire to return to London at all. I shall probably sell the house there, or at least only use it for occasional visits to that city.”
Lord Melton crossed the room and stood next to her as she continued to play.
Her fingers faltered a little as she became aware of how close he was standing.
He reached over and turned the page of her music for her.
His mouth was only inches from her ear as he murmured,
“I wonder if there would ever come a time when you could be persuaded to leave Donnington Hall? If it perhaps meant living in the same area, where you could keep an eye on all that was happening on your own estate?”
Rosanna gazed up into his dark brown eyes. Her heart was thumping and now her hands were trembling so much she had to stop playing.
He reached down and linked his fingers with hers, pulling her gently to her feet.
“Rosanna – you must know how I feel about you?” he said urgently. “Please give me a sign that you are not indifferent to my advances.”
Rosanna gasped, overcome with emotion.
She loved Lord Melton!
There, she had finally admitted it to herself. And he was saying that he had feelings for her.
But – the beautiful face of Lady Verity swam into Rosanna’s mind.
Surely she was the one Lord Melton truly loved? Perhaps he just felt grateful for the nursing help she had given him.
“You are very quiet, my dear,” the Earl said now, frowning. “Have I, perhaps, been too presumptuous. If I have alarmed you in any way – ”
“Oh, no, my Lord,” Rosanna cried. “It’s just – what with everything that has happened – inheriting Donnington Hall, Sir Walter’s pursuit of me, running away to Melton Castle – and now you say – ”
She pulled away from him, not wanting him to see that she was close to tears.
Her heart’s desire was standing in front of her, but how could she possibly accept him when she was not sure that his feelings were genuine and not the result of an invalid’s attachment to his nurse? Lord Melton turned and strode to the door.
“I can see that I have upset you, Lady Rosanna. Please accept my deepest apologies. I will not bother you again. I bid you good evening, my Lady.”
And with a curt nod of his head, he left the room.
Late that night, Rosanna was still tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
She had stood silently while Edie had helped her undress and even though the maid had tried to talk while she was brushing her hair, Rosanna’s pale face and set expression had managed to halt the younger girl’s chatter.
‘Had a row with his Lordship, sure as eggs are eggs,’ Edie thought with a mental sniff. ‘Just when John and me thought everything was working out well – for all of us!’
Rosanna sat up in bed, listening as the grandfather clock on the landing nearest to her room spoke the hour of two o’clock.
Moonlight was flooding across the bed, turning everything it touched to silver.
But Rosanna could not see any beauty or think of anything to bring her happiness.
She knew that she loved Lord Melton with all her heart, but if he felt only gratitude and pity for her, then that was no reason to accept his proposal.
How could she compete with someone as beautiful as Lady Verity?
‘But I fear he is sadly mistaken as to her character,’ she told herself, pulling her robe around her.
‘I know it was Lady Verity who told Sir Walter about me. I just know it was!’
She tossed back the bedclothes and paced around her room in a storm of unease.
Lord Melton would leave in the morning and perhaps she would only see him again at social functions – perhaps even at his wedding!
She could feel a real pain in her chest at the thought of having to attend such an event and pretend that she was pleased for the happy couple.
The room seemed stuffy, even with the window open to the cool night air.
Rosanna felt a great desire to go outside, to walk and walk, to escape from all the wild, unhappy thoughts that beset her at every turn.
Oh, how marvellous it would be to saddle up Ta
ffy, her little mare, and ride out into the night, far away from everything and everyone that hurt her so.
Of course that was not possible, but she could at least stroll in the gardens for a while, just until her racing heart and clouded head had returned to normal.
Ignoring the oil lamp on her dressing table, she pulled a heavy woven shawl around her shoulders and slipping out of her room, walked swiftly along the corridor.
Moonlight flooded in through the wide windows, turning the polished floorboards to silver under her feet.
Just as she reached the top of the stairs, a sudden golden flash crossed the silver.
Rosanna paused, puzzled. Yes, there it was again! A flickering golden light coming through the window, as if someone was outside with a lantern.
In two steps she was looking out, realising that from this side of the house, she was gazing down at the stable yard.
For several seconds she could see nothing that could have caused that flash of colour.
Then, as the moon momentarily vanished behind a cloud and the scene below was plunged into darkness, she saw it – a bright glowing light coming from – the stables!
Rosanna felt her blood freeze in her veins.
The stables were on fire!
And even as she watched, she heard yells and shouts and the door to the stables was flung open and a man’s figure – she was sure it was John Barker – appeared, framed against the glowing reds and crimson of the flames.
Rosanna wasted no time in screaming. She turned and ran back along the corridor, up a little staircase and beat with both fists on the door of the main guest room.
“Lord Melton – Lord Melton – William! Wake up! Help! There’s a fire. You must help!”
To her surprise the door was flung open and Lord Melton stood there. Obviously he had only just started retiring for the night and had reached as far as taking off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt.
“Lady Rosanna! What in the world – ?”
“Quick! The stables are on fire. The horses – oh, William, we must save the horses!”
Even as she spoke, more lights appeared downstairs and voices began shouting.
Lord Melton did not hesitate – he vanished towards the stairs, his face grim and set.
Rosanna set off after him, but hesitated, just as Edie came flying along the corridor towards her, her face white, cap missing, her red curls an untidy riot over her brow.
“My Lady! My Lady! A fire. Oh, God, my John’s down there – he’s sleeping in the stables tonight!”
Rosanna caught hold of the younger girl, forcing her to stop.
“Steady, Edie! John will be fine. He’s a brave and resourceful man. Now quick, find me some shoes. I want to go downstairs but it will not help if I end up with cut feet.”
Edie pulled herself together, her training taking over.
“Yes, my Lady. Right away.”
“Oh, and Edie, then rouse everyone who hasn’t heard. Gather all the maids together in the kitchen and collect as much as you can find in the way of salves and bandages. There are sure to be people burnt before the night is out.”
Within a minute Edie had returned with Rosanna’s shoes – not the outdoor ones she had wanted, but little blue silk slippers.
But they would have to do, Rosanna thought, slipping them on.
She ran downstairs and outside into the yard to a scene from hell.
Flames were roaring up into the night sky with a sound like a thousand dragons breathing, sparks flying, the roof of the stables were alight now and silhouetted against the flames were the shapes of men fighting to pull terrified horses out of the blazing stalls.
Someone had organised a chain of buckets and as one of the lads manned the stable pump, others passed the water along, trying desperately to quench the inferno.
“Rosanna! Go back indoors. This is no place for you!” Lord Melton shouted at her as he led a terrified horse past, its eyes rolling wildly in its head.
“I must help! These are my horses!” she cried. “Are all the men safe? And what of Demon? Is he out?”
Lord Melton gazed round at the chaos of men and animals. It was hard to think over the roaring of the flames, the flying sparks as straw and hay caught light, sending cascading showers of fire into the smoke filled air.
“All the men are out. The alarm was raised in time.
And yes, I believe Demon is safe. John Barker released him and he galloped off. We’ll find him in the morning.”
“But no one has been injured?”
“I think we were in time to save the animals, but I am afraid your stables will be destroyed. Now, please, go indoors, I am scared you will be hurt.”
Just then John Barker came up, panting, his shirt torn, a great burn across his chest, his face dirty and black with smoke.
“All out, my Lord. Just the pony left, but I daren’t send anyone else in for him.”
“My little grey pony? Smudger? Oh, no, he cannot be allowed to perish!” Rosanna cried.
He was too important. He had carried her faithfully to Melton and had outrun Sir Walter on that dreadful day when the monster had chased her back to the Castle.
“Rosanna! Wait!”
Lord Melton’s shout was in vain.
Rosanna had slipped from his grasp and was running across the yard.
Without hesitating, she pulled her heavy shawl over her head and taking a deep breath, stepped into the stables.
The heat took her breath away. She could feel hot cinders burning through the thin soles of her slippers as she stepped cautiously along, past the empty stalls where the straw and hay were burning fiercely.
“Rosanna! Good Lord, come back before you die!”
It was Lord Melton, a horse blanket over his head, tugging at her arm, but she pulled away as they reached the stall where Smudger was kicking and bucking, trying to force the door open.
“We have to save him!” she shrieked, trying to lift the metal hook from its clasp and gasping in pain as the iron burnt her fingers.
With a curse, Lord Melton snatched the door open and tossed the rug over the pony’s head and with one arm round Rosanna’s waist and the other tangled in the grey mane, he raced for the door, as the roof gave up its fight against the fire and collapsed behind them in a fiery rage.
Outside in the courtyard, Lord Melton helped Rosanna to the pump and held her hands under the icy water.
“Oh, my little love,” he said, a catch in his breath. “How brave you are. But what would I have done if you had perished?”
Rosanna took her hands from the water, the pain of her burns fading as she gazed into the desperate brown eyes in front of her.
“I am so sorry, William,” she whispered. “I only thought of myself. I never considered that I might be causing you pain. I only wanted to save the pony – to me he is a faithful friend.”
“And I am a new one, but, with all my heart, I would be your best friend from now on, your lover and your husband.
“Will you marry me, Rosanna Donnington?”
Rosanna gazed at him, all the love she felt showing clearly on her face.
“You do me too much honour, my Lord,” she sighed.
“You called me William earlier,” he said, dropping a kiss on her soot streaked forehead.
“William,” she said, her lips curving into a smile.
She stared around at the dirty, busy stable yard, the ruined building, the shouting men still pouring water on the hissing remains.
She had always girlishly imagined that when she said yes to a proposal of marriage it would be somewhere romantic – a rose-garden, a ball, a country walk in the spring sunshine.
She had pictured a vague male figure saying those magical words, but he had always been immaculately dressed in the height of fashion.
The man kneeling in front of her had a dirty face, blackened hands and a torn shirt that would need to be thrown away.
No, this was not what she had imagined, but she knew with a great ce
rtainty that she loved this man with all her heart and that he loved her in return.
Lord Melton pulled her gently to her feet and held her close to his heart as if he would never let her out of his sight again.
John Barker approached, hesitating at interrupting them, but Lord Melton nodded at him to speak.
‘My Lord, I think you should come and see what we’ve found.”
“John – ?” Lord Melton stared at the man’s face and what he read there made him frown.
“Alone, if you please, my Lord. This is no sight for a lady.”
“Wait here, my loved one. I will only be a moment.”
Rosanna stood, nursing her burnt fingers, curious as to what could be so important.
Edie appeared from the kitchen with Rosanna’s heavy travelling cloak.
She draped it carefully around her Mistress, grumbling under her breath at the ruined dressing robe and slippers.
“Edie, he loves me. We are to be married!” Rosanna cried, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes.
“Well, anyone could see what his Lordship felt about you, my Lady,” stated Edie stoutly. “But that’s still no excuse for you to be out here in the night air in just your night clothes!
“And with your permission, I’ll be marrying John Barker and coming to live at the Castle as his wife. You’ll be needing a new maid, my Lady.”
Rosanna clasped her hand, smiling at the cheerful face.
“Oh, Edie, we will be so happy! If only I could drive the whole problem of Sir Walter away, my life would be perfect.”
Lord Melton strode back, his long legs eating up the ground. He looked grave as he took Rosanna’s hands in his and kissed her burnt fingers.
“You need not fear Sir Walter any more, my darling,” he grunted heavily.
“Sir Walter?”
“There is a body in Demon’s stall. A body holding an oil lamp. Some timbers fell on him, but he is quite easy to recognise. It is Sir Walter Fenwick.”
“Oh, no! How dreadful, but William, what was he doing with a lamp in my stables?”
Lord Melton shook his head.
“I can only imagine that – much as it pains me to think it of a man who professed to love horses – he is to blame for starting the fire!”
Rosanna gasped.
Love Rescues Rosanna Page 13
